Possibilities
by terracannon876
Summary: Matoba Seiji, young heir to the Matoba family, sets out to catch a strong spirit as a familiar. Instead, he finds Natsume, a boy who becomes his first and only friend. But Natsume isn't as human as he'd like him to be. Friendship MatobaxNatsume. AU
1. Chapter 1  Possibilities

This was inspired by one of the stories in volume 13 of the manga which caused a sudden flood of MatobaxNatsume fanart.

I thought it was a shame that the only likely relationship the two could share in canon was one of enmity (or, alternatively, noncon/dubcon. Like that's any better).

This story is meant as a mostly preslash fic to MatobaxNatsume pairing. Or it could be platonic. I haven't decided.

It is AU, as you'll realize in the first section. This story is also a ... take on what Natsume and Matoba would be like — Natsume without his abusive past, and Matoba with someone to mellow him out.

I apologize to returning readers for the lack of updates, since I've been busy with other projects. More details on my profile.

Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

PS: Finally! Finally, I manage to write a semi-long oneshot that hasn't exploded into a multi-chapter fic!

* * *

><p><strong>Possibilities<strong>

Thin fingers threaded through his hair and he resisted the urge to smile at the slight tickling sensation.

"Matoba, you should relax more."

"I am relaxed."

"Denial, Matoba, is not healthy, even one so accustomed to it as you."

"I deny nothing, liar."

"We need to work on your weaning process. Denying denial is one step forwards and two steps back."

The hands were slightly chilly, as a spirit's often were, and his voice was soft. Seiji always liked to compare it to a brook, chilly yet refreshing, or clouds, superficially firm but ephemeral, in his mind. Instead of responding, the exorcist opted to shut his one uncovered eye and focus on the sensation.

He was almost asleep when the door opened with a snap, loud as a gunshot in the silence.

Seiji frowned at the servant as he sat up and as the owner of the hands jumped, quickly pulling them back into his lap. The man had the grace to look cowed. "Excuse me, Matoba, sir, but there are some clients waiting for you at the front lounge…"

Really, that was no excuse for the lack of knocking. A quick glare and a resigned sigh before Seiji lifted himself to his feet. He raised his hand to brush the spirit's bangs back as a parting gesture, but the other shifted back with narrowed eyes, expressive enough that Seiji couldn't help but chuckle. 'I'm not someone for you to coddle.'

Instead, Seiji settled for a jaunty wave as he exited through the doorway. "Don't get into too much trouble, Natsume. I'll be back before too long." He didn't miss the soft, "Be careful," whispered from those ethereal lips.

Nor did he miss the barely noticeable scowl of disgust decorating his subordinate's face. He contemplated slashing the man's pay, but after much debate, determined that confiscating the other's familiars was a much more fitting punishment. An exorcist, even one who was basically a servant and thus had no need for any, was nothing without his familiars.

* * *

><p>Seiji, like his father and his father before him, disdained demons. They were heartless creatures, sneaky in their almost complete invisibility to the human race and leeching off of the human spirit and soul. Parasites who only spread negative emotions and evil intentions.<p>

Not to say humans were untainted by the darkness, but demons were powerful. Worth taking advantage of, but otherwise, too strong to let be.

To Seiji, the perfect answer was to be distant to both species alike.

He had determined this at a young age, young enough to walk but too young to have his voice crack. He thought his father stupid for not understanding that their only allies were themselves – so stupid for wasting so much time and energy looking over his shoulder and foiling possible conspiracies because he insisted on interacting with the rest of the human race.

Seiji grew up cold. He smiled, but it was with the same warmth of an ice sculpture chiseled with upturned lips. He talked warmly to his mother and father – his only trusted confidants – but both were always busy with exorcisms and he was always absorbed with his studies.

Their end had been just as anyone expected. Death at the hands of an enraged spirit after a failed rite. Seiji shed tears at the funeral, but that was only because the newly placed curse that had transferred to him upon his father's death was causing the most horrible migraine. His head had felt like it was splitting in two, and yet he'd had to stand and look proper in a suit and to greet others with propriety and courtesy.

At the age of thirteen, it never occurred to Seiji at the time that he was barreling into something more than he could handle. If his parents, who were fools in their own right, could handle such responsibilities, then there was no reason he shouldn't be able to either. Nanase was a great help, albeit a bit harsh on him, but he was fine by that. Harshness meant he would push himself further.

He maintained their connections and took the clients himself, carried out the exorcisms, scouted out new areas, reviewed the reports from the others working for him, researched recent rumors on spirit appearances, and somehow or another, found time to organize social gatherings for the exorcists. He'd even found a way to create his own temporary familiars, adamant as he was about never contracting a real one himself.

Then suddenly, an unusual report caught his attention, one about a demon who flitted from area to area, appearing to humans in physical guise and "helping them" (according to the demons they'd questioned, at least. Seiji suspected trickery) before disappearing without a trace. Nanase had always been urging him to find a powerful familiar, if not for himself then at least for the Matoba family as a whole, and such agility and potential for stealth was not to be overlooked easily. After much nagging, Seiji finally agreed to personally see the investigation through.

Days passed without any success, but Seiji was hardly discouraged. Intrigued at the challenge despite himself, he worked day and night to try to predict the spirit's movements before finally managing to predict its next location, where it would appear in a week.

Seiji waited by the Jizou statue on the road, umbrella held low over his head. The rain pitter-pattered in an unsteady rhythm that didn't reach the exorcist's ears, and he ignored the mud seeping into his sandals. He waited for the elusive spirit. And he waited. And waited.

And waited.

And the next thing he knew, he was opening his good eye to the sight of honey-colored eyes.

He couldn't help himself. He yelped and jumped backwards. But then he realized he was soaking wet and his umbrella was rolling on the ground next to him. His pants were drenched with mud, as were his hands. He resisted the urge to bury his face in them and groan. He'd fallen asleep.

"A-are you all right?" said the boy in front of him. He was thin – thinner than Seiji, even, who had never had what one would call a good constitution – and his tawny hair framed a face that made him calculate the boy's age at about his own. He looked … for a lack of a better word, down-to-earth, especially with his plain jacket and the loose pants that barely clung to his frame.

"Um … hello?" the boy asked again, this time looking slightly worried. Seiji realized he hadn't answered the previous question.

Seiji narrowed his eyes. Ignoring the cold and the wet, he concentrated on trying to sense any spiritual aura from the boy. He found some, but not any more than he would expect from a slightly sensitive human. The boy was human through and through.

Did this mean his calculations were off and the spirit had never visited this area?

"Are you cold? Do you want my umbrella?"

Seiji had to give the boy credit. He was persistent and hadn't been driven away despite Seiji's stern demeanor. In his experience, ignore a person and eventually the person would lose interest. This … didn't seem to be the case here.

He shook his head. "I have my own. You don't have to get wet because of me." As he said this, he lifted himself off the muck and picked up his umbrella, even though it would do little good to him at this point.

The boy apparently thought so too. "I don't think that will do you any good anymore…" He looked as depressed as though he were the one who'd fallen asleep in the rain. "Why don't we wait the rain out? There's a shrine down the road. We can dry out there, too."

Seiji shuffled through his possible options in his head and decided there wasn't anything to lose. The boy didn't seem like a spirit anyways. The demons were tricksters and conniving, but even they weren't this good at concealing their hostile intentions. He sensed not a hint of malice.

He nodded.

A smile broke out on the boy's face. "Let's go then!"

Before Seiji could even react, the other had grabbed his hand, dirt, mud and all, and started running with him in tow.

"You're getting wet too," observed Seiji when the boy lowered his umbrella as they headed down the dirt road.

This didn't faze the other one bit. "This way, we can run faster. You won't be the only one who needs to dry out now."

Perhaps because his brain was still half-asleep, what the boy said actually made sense to him.

"Hey," Seiji called out.

"Yeah?"

"What's your name?" He couldn't call him "boy" forever. The lack of a name was starting to irk him.

"Natsume. My name's Natsume Takashi."

A small silence broken only by splashes of sandled feet.

"What's yours?"

Seiji was broken out of his reverie by the question. "Huh?" What an intelligent reply.

"Your name. I told you mine. What's yours?"

Oh. "Matoba. Matoba Seiji."

* * *

><p>The rain didn't stop for hours, most of which was spent in silence. There wasn't much "drying out" to do, since neither of them could create a fire (which wouldn't have been wise either since the shrine was a wooden building), so they both set their wet clothes to the side and sat on the hardwood in only their underwear.<p>

Never before had Seiji done anything so embarrassing, but he was determined to handle his predicament with poise.

He snuck a glance over at Natsume, who seemed to suffer from no such compunctions and was standing confidently over his clothes as he smoothed them out.

"Why were you sleeping in the rain?"

Seiji twitched at the seemingly innocent question. "It's personal business."

"'Personal business?' …I guess it doesn't matter. You shouldn't sleep in the rain though. You'll catch a cold."

"I don't need your lecture."

Natsume tilted his head. "I'm not lecturing. Lecturing is what older people do. I'm just saying. Sleeping in the rain gets you a cold."

Seiji wished for the silence to return.

It did, for a short while, but again, Natsume broke the tenuous quiet.

"I'm sorry who you were waiting for didn't come."

Seiji raised his one good eyebrow. "What makes you think…"

"I can't think of any other reason why you'd wait at a place like that for so long that you'd fall asleep. He didn't come, and you kept waiting. I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I don't know … I just don't think you should've been left waiting there."

And with that, Natsume looked so sad, like someone had murdered his friend, that Seiji sighed and relaxed a little from his tight crouch. "It's not your fault. I was only waiting there on a guess, and I lost the gamble. That's all."

"Who were you waiting for?"

"It doesn't matter. I lost it this time, but I'll just try to find it again."

"'It?' Were you looking for a cat?"

"…Something like that." Seiji cursed himself for that slip. Force of habit.

The rain ended not long after. The clothes were hardly dry, but they would have to do. Seiji slipped them on, but if it weren't for some mild gain in dignity, he would've had them off because they sent a new ripple of shivers through him.

Natsume was surveying his shirt and jacket with a frown. They were still visibly dripping.

"If you'd kept your umbrella up, you wouldn't be wet."

"But then you'd chase me away because I'd have no reason to stay and talk." Natsume said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Seiji froze. He should've seen that possibility.

"I should get going," Natsume continued. "I hope you find your cat. They like to do whatever they want and it probably won't appear if you keep waiting for it. Maybe you could bring some food for it?"

If he really was searching for a cat, then that'd be a good suggestion. "I'll keep that in mind."

Dressed and slightly wet, the two headed down the road. At the fork, Natsume turned to him. "I'm going this way. I really liked talking to you. You don't talk a lot, but you seem nice. Maybe we'll see each other again someday?"

Mentally, Seiji widened his eyes at being described as "nice." He didn't want to be "nice." Instead of voicing this, though, he just replied with a simple, "Perhaps."

This brought a bright grin to Natsume's face and, with a cheerful wave, the boy parted ways with him.

Seiji stood for a while longer, dumbfounded at being the receiving end of such happiness, but he quickly pushed the strange incident out of his mind and headed back to the mansion to regroup and redouble his efforts.

* * *

><p>Seiji really wished Nanase would cut back on the "I told you so" glances she kept sending his way. He wasn't a child anymore. He was already eighteen, and did not need condescension, especially from someone who was no longer his mentor but now someone he was on equal standing with.<p>

Powerful demons were rarer than ever before. The last hunt had ended in failure, with the spirit choosing to take its own life with the last of its power rather than come with him. It was a rather frustrating resolution, seeing as how Seiji had spent the previous month chasing after it.

Seiji sighed and sat back down at his paper-laden desk. He resisted the urge to rub his brow. That just irritated the seal over his right eye more.

He looked up at the clock with a frown and then back down at his books. He had no appointments for the rest of the day.

Mind made up, he helped himself out of the room. He turned gave a careless wave to the guard standing at the front door as he left the mansion. "I'm stepping out. Don't expect me back before sundown."

The guard, already used to such occurrences, didn't utter any audible protest.

Seiji made his way down to the town nearby. They were at an old outpost, both for convenience and because it remained the most comforting out of all the mansions the Matoba family owned for Seiji. True, the accommodations were nice, albeit a little antiquated, but the true reason was because of its proximity to the nearby town.

Life had been busy. The Matoba family had always been large, and with Seiji at its head, it had spearheaded the growth in the declining industry that is exorcism. Of course, that meant more responsibilities, but Seiji never saw that as a bother. Instead, they were just another step forward in his life, a small hill to cross before greater success. There were far fewer powerful spirits than before, but his job wasn't finished until every last one of them were under his (or, he ceded, other exorcist's) control.

He had little time to rest. And in that time, there was always one luxury he granted himself that he always made sure to relish.

The sun was on its downward slope past the horizon when Seiji arrived at an old Jizou statue. Despite the lack of cloud, he held his umbrella down past his face. The locals passed by him with a few whispers, but by now they were probably used to his eccentric appearances from time to time. He'd been doing this for the past five years after all.

Seiji checked his pocket watch. The boy (because despite the fact that both had grown older, the other would and will always be considered younger than him) had the punctuality of a cicada. Any minute now…

"Nyan."

Seiji heaved a sigh. "That grew old the second time. Continuing to do so another twenty times does not, contrary to popular belief, add to the surprise."

A light laugh came from behind him. Seiji couldn't see him, even from his peripheral vision, thanks to combined cover of his bangs, the seal covering one eye, and his umbrella, but he knew it was his friend. "That won't stop me. You know I'm nothing if not persistent."

With that, Natsume stepped around and in front of Seiji. The exorcist felt his heart and fatigue lighten at the sight of the other's smile, perpetual as day and night over the past few years. "It's nice to see you again. What brought this visit on? It's only been a few weeks since your last one."

He frowned. "Let's just say that I need a reprieve from the band of fools who constantly surround me."

"Really? They must be quite skilled for sticking by you for so long."

"Hm?"

"You have the demeanor of a bulldog and the friendliness of a porcupine. If they could stand your prickliness, I'm sure they could survive anything."

Seiji elected not to mention the casualties that were an occupational hazard – not out of any notion of tact but because his job was one secret he had no plans to reveal to anyone, even his friend. "And what does that make you?"

A self-deprecating chuckle. "I suppose that makes me the biggest fool of them all."

Their friendship was an unlikely one. Natsume was too cheerful and too, dare he say, innocent for the likes of him, but perhaps that's what attracted Seiji to him. Seiji himself had once asked the other why he always made the time to meet him, and though he'd shuffled a bit before answering, his reply had been along the lines of, "Because you're interesting and fun."

Seiji, who'd only wandered back to the place they'd first met on a whim, had been indignant at such a deprecating response, but his anger had been overtaken by shock when Natsume had reached into his bag and pulled out a cat and said, "Is this one yours?"

At that moment, Seiji had looked, really looked, at Natsume and noticed the dirt smudges and the matted hair that was now a slightly darker shade of brown than before. Unable to come up with an appropriate response, he'd shaken his head and Natsume had frowned thoughtfully and shrugged before setting the feline down gently by the side of the road. When he'd returned, the first thing he'd done was apologize for not finding the right cat and that he'd try again next time.

Seiji hadn't been able to find the will in his ice cold heart to point out the logical fallacy that he didn't even live near the area and in all likelihood, he would be gone by next week. Instead, he had nodded and promised to meet him the next day.

…And things had devolved from there.

Seiji snapped back to himself when he felt a sharp poke on his arm.

"Hello? Earth to Matoba?" That was one oddity about Natsume. Despite his cheer and casualness, he'd never dropped his impeccable formality when it came to names.

Seiji deigned to grunt a reply.

Natsume looked him in the eye in that annoyingly soul-searching manner of his before dropping the subject. Their conversation continued along the usual harmless routes. Natsume was working hard at school. Seiji was busy with his job (all the while surrounded by incompetent helpers who were too useless for even demon fodder). Natsume made some new friends that day and they were going fishing soon. Seiji was meeting some business associates on the weekend to discuss the possibility of their joining the clan (only, he'd said "firm" instead).

Entrenched as they were in their conversation, Seiji almost missed the flash of spiritual pressure from the hill above the road. He swerved his head in its direction and glared. The aura wasn't strong, but enough to be a nuisance.

"Is something wrong?"

Seiji looked back to see a curiously tilted head and a light smile. He opened his mouth to answer, but his words quickly choked back when something about the expression seemed … off. Were Natsume's eyes avoiding his? Were his eyebrows slightly more upturned? Was he clenching the strap of his bag unnaturally tightly? He was about to return the other's question when he sensed movement. He snapped his gaze back to the potential threat.

This time, he saw his friend track his movement and stare at the same spot.

He'd always known Natsume was spiritually powerful, had known it from the time they'd first met. However, Natsume's powers were weak – about as much as you'd expect from someone who might only catch a glimpse of the true world around them every now and then. Interestingly enough, those powers never grew but remained at a constant low over the years, but Seiji hadn't ever wondered about it. It wasn't like he'd ever brought up the fact he hunted demons for a living either.

His powers did make him vulnerable, though. He'd talked with enough spirits, however reluctantly, to know that they considered humans with more power to be "tastier" (the word itself brought a bitter taste to his mouth), and Natsume probably looked like a mighty fine appetizer.

"Stay." With only those words, Seiji dropped his umbrella and took off into the woods.

"Wait! Matoba!"

The words didn't stop the exorcist, though, as he barreled headlong through branches and brush. He didn't bother concealing himself. He needed to get to the demon as fast as possible, before it noticed Natsume's presence.

It was his duty as an exorcist to protect humans, and it was his duty as a friend to protect Natsume, most of all.

The spirit was an ugly thing, even by their standards, and Seiji could barely contain the scowl of disgust that worked its way to the surface. Too bloated, too many limbs, too uneven. Its mask was a blank white, similar to those that appeared on his false familiars.

The creature chortled. "What do we have here?" The thing was already on its feet by the time Seiji had arrived. It had already been planning to attack. "The snack decides to send itself into the willing jaws of the predator? Don't blame me if I help myself!"

Seiji quickly dodged the shooting tentacles and called forth two of his familiars. Before they could finish forming, though, they were dispatched with a single swipe.

As he'd thought, this demon was stronger than the average fare.

"You think something like that would be enough to take me down?"

Seiji couldn't help but snort. "Filth like you are hardly worth the effort. I'd been hoping to spare myself the humiliation of fighting you myself." He hadn't brought any of his weapons so he was at a handicap, but there was no way he would lose to something that looked like it'd spawned from a garbage dump. He readied one of his more powerful chants.

He was almost done when pain flashed in his right eye and he heard a loud rip. Heedless, deep in concentration as he was, he continued his words.

A flash of light, a concussive blast, and he opened his eyes to the sight of black sludge dissipating into nothing.

Eyes?

He touched his hand to his now uncovered face. Wonder mixed with horror.

What a strange sensation, to finally be able to feel in that area again. To be honest, the eye was slightly blurry, unaccustomed as it was to light.

No. He shook his head. Now was not the time to be reveling in such petty sensations. He had to return to the manor and renew the seal before anything happened.

"Matoba?"

Seiji cursed. "Natsume? I told you to stay!"

An exhausted Natsume appeared, panting, out from among the trees. "Are you all right? I heard noises and I thought… What happened to your face?"

Despite his present predicament, Seiji thought that an awfully strange question to ask. It should've been more like, "Why's your face back to normal now?"

He was brought back by a cloth dabbing his cheek and the sight of Natsume's face uncomfortably close to him. "There's blood…"

Oh. Seiji managed to catch a hint of moisture with his finger before his hand was slapped away by an obviously flustered Natsume. It came away red.

He tried to move away. "Stop fussing like a hen. I'm fine. I'll get it treated at the mansion." He needed to get away as soon as possible or else Natsume would get dragged into his mess more than he already was. "I need to go. Don't you have somewhere to be? Scat."

He expected protests or at least a, "Let me finish this first!" but Natsume surprised him by stuffing his tainted-red handkerchief into his pocket with a succinct nod. "We should go somewhere safe first."

Could Natsume sense the curse?

Seiji decided against asking. A question for another day. The two set off at a run. He didn't know why Natsume was running alongside him instead of the other way. Surely, if he'd seen demons before, he'd know to run the other way instead to avoid getting into more trouble with them?

Nothing was to be gained by associating with them except, in his case, petty cash.

He was even more amazed by how fast Natsume was dashing, sailing over the ground with wide (albeit, clumsy, since he was tripping every few steps over a tree root or stone) strides. Despite his thin constitution, something that hadn't changed over all these years, Natsume was leading the way, practically dragging Seiji back towards the mansion.

How he even knew where he lived was yet another question to add to the growing list of mysteries, but now was neither the time nor place.

Unfortunately, regardless of how fast they traveled, they weren't fast enough.

Natsume sensed him first. He screeched to a halt, almost snapping Seiji's shoulder out of its socket with its suddenness.

"What the hell are you do—" Seiji cut his complaint off when he saw the other boy stare skyward with an expression of abject horror. At the same moment, a wave of dread crashed over him. He followed his gaze and cursed his nonexistent luck and all the powers in the world conspiring against him.

There, tangled among the treetops like a macabre garland was a long segmented body, each part round and fat. Out of each stuck a long pair of spindly legs, hairy and pincer-clawed. A quick estimate brought the count to thirty pairs total.

But what was more horrifying was its head, a gaping maw with a circular jaw lined with teeth. It leaned down towards them, the human hands attached to the few segments below the head extended towards him. He could see it had one eye, but unlike most Cyclops creatures, this eye was not located in the forehead (or the rough approximation of where the forehead would be). It was to the left.

Its right eye did not exist. Its right eye socket did, though, and it was black and dark. A hungry void.

His headache returned if he stared at it for too long.

"Human. A hundred years I have searched for my eye, and a hundred years I have failed. Cowardice has saved the lives of you and your ancestors until now, but without your precious seal, I shall be taking back what's mine."

The hands rushed forward to grab him, and, though Seiji would normally have the energy to run clean of the attack, he had expended more energy than he wanted on both his previous attack and the mad dash. At best, he could time his dodge…

He didn't expect the heavy shove that sent him flying face-first to the ground. He spat the dirt from his mouth. "Natsume!"

The push could not have come from anyone else, and he was not disappointed, though he wish he had been. The demon's hands closed around his friend and he saw him be lifted up.

"Hm?" The demon paused. "You're … not…" It appeared to be sniffing Natsume, who kept very, very still. He flinched when it suddenly gave an angry roar, one that shook the treetops and deafened Matoba. "What do you think you're doing with my prey, thief!"

A flick of the hand and Seiji watched in horror as Natsume was flung. The horrid crunch that accompanied Natsume's harsh crash and roll rang through his ears.

A wave of rage surged through his veins and he drew from what reserves he could. The small logical area of his brain screamed at him to abandon this hopeless fight because there was no way he could win in his current condition and without the proper setup, especially against such a powerful spirit, but the rest of his mind told the small logical portion to fuck off.

Sharp light arrows formed in the air above him, hovering with a light hum. All of them were honed in on one target.

The monster turned its face towards him. Seiji found himself staring straight into the left eye, and he glowered. With an uncharacteristic roar, he let his attack rip forth.

The demon swerved at the last moment, but though its head was no longer in the line of fire, the rest of its body did not move. It released a piercing cry when a segment was practically gouged out by the arrows impaling it.

Seiji took the opportunity to dash over to his fallen friend.

The monster fell from the trees with a loud crash. A particularly large one caused him to lose his footing as its entire length plunged, driving some of the arrows in even deeper. It squealed and thrashed, and too late did Seiji see one of its claws come down straight towards him.

For the second time in the past few minutes, he found himself lying facedown on the ground again.

He opened his eyes to the sight of red.

Natsume stood over him, blood splashed across his back and still dribbling forth from the open wound. It sprayed across the earth in wet spots around him. It trickled from his mouth.

And yet, somehow, through all this, Natsume managed to remain standing. He turned back towards the demon, exposing the full canvas of his back to Seiji.

"Please! Nothing comes from holding a grudge for so long. There's nothing for you here! Go! Please!"

Heedless Natsume's pleading, the demon brought one leg up, its single eye swiveled to stare at them with whites blazing.

The leg crashed down.

With a panicked cry, Natsume threw out a hand, and a bright light erupted from him.

Seiji was forced to shield his eyes.

When he opened them, the only trace of the demon left was the upturned earth and the razed trees.

And Natsume was on the ground, face down and unmoving. The blood. The blood was pooling around him.

With a curse, Seiji stumbled to his feet and hurried to Natsume's side. He turned him over.

Before he could say anything, the words tumbled form Natsume's trembling lips.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"

He'd seen many injured before. He was no stranger to death. But for some reason, his mind was in the strange limbo between working frantically and coming up completely blank.

"You should be. Thanks to you, I have a twisted ankle."

He should be furious. He should, by all rights, kill Natsume right here and now for lying to him, for being a spirit, and for being an extremely powerful one, by the looks of it.

"I couldn't do anything … I could only drive him away."

He should be outraged because, all those years ago, he made him waste hours, days, weeks, and yet he still had the gall to befriend him. He had the audacity to remain friends for five years.

"Tsk … keep your mouth shut. Stop talking."

Natsume was the spirit he'd been searching, and surprised as he was, everything fit. How Natsume always knew where and when to find him and always appeared that day. How Natsume never mentioned anything about his family life. How Natsume's spiritual power never seemed to develop (because he'd been hiding them the entire time).

"I'm sorry…"

He was too close to this. There was no way he could look at this objectively. Natsume was a spirit. Did that mean he was a friend still? Did that mean they were enemies?

"Stop apologizing… Just stop apologizing."

But Natsume was lying in front of him, bleeding out. Did spirits bleed to death?

There was nothing he'd ever read that told him how to deal with this sort of a situation.

Physically, mentally, or emotionally.

"I'm sorry…"

* * *

><p>The next few moments were a blur. In the end, he'd decided to throw the light boy … man … spirit … over his shoulder and, limping, dash towards the Matoba mansion. He supposed he should be grateful that he … it? …was still in human form. Otherwise the guards would have delayed him more upon his appearance.<p>

Though their faces were full of alarm, they ushered him in without a word at the sight of their master, somehow managing to look dignified despite his gasping and being drenched in blood.

Nurses came and went, but Seiji forbade them from approaching Natsume's body and told them to return with water, towels, and bandages instead. He insisted on taking care of the boy himself. This was his responsibility.

He himself was hardly injured but for the ankle.

He wasn't one for letting favors rest. Natsume had saved his life. It was common courtesy.

That was all.

Body clean of blood, Natsume looked paler than usual. Understandable, after having lost so much.

Seiji covered the boy up with the blanket. Kneeling by Natsume's head, he stared sightlessly down.

This continued for some time.

Having heard their head was injured, Nanase had appeared once to check on him, but after seeing him with some stranger lying in front of him, she only narrowed her eyes suspiciously, indicating that she wanted to and will talk to him about this at a future date.

For the most part, though, he was left to his own devices.

The sun had long set by the time Natsume first groaned and showed the first signs of waking up. Seiji felt some of the tension, tension that he didn't even know he had, leave him, and he finally sat back fully for the first time in many hours.

It took another hour for Natsume to open his eyes. A tense silence stretched between them, secrets bared and asking for judgment, although Seiji suspected that his own had never been a secret in the first place.

"I was injured," said Natsume in a soft voice, one that felt strangely nostalgic, "when two humans found me. I happened to be in human form at the time, and they nursed me back to health.

"I know you're an exorcist and you may not believe what I say, but I like humans. I'd always admired them. I wanted to be by them more, and I wanted to know more about them, so I found a way to enter their school. I've never enjoyed myself more than those few years."

Seiji opened his mouth for the first time in several hours. It was dry and his tongue rasped against the roof of his mouth. "Entertained, were you?"

Natsume shook his head, his eyes never leaving the shadowed ceiling. He was too used to Seiji's usual biting tongue to be bothered by the pale imitation leaving his lips. "Humans … were everything I wanted to be. I can only become a close approximation of one, and even then, it's only in body." He turned and looked Seiji in the eye. "Did you know that most spirits are hostile towards each other?" A quick flash of a sad smile. "Yes, of course you know." Eyes back to ceiling. "Humans are amazing, aren't they? They can cast aside their differences. They watch out for each other. They enjoy each other's company. It was like … finally belonging to something."

"Humans aren't as wonderful as you make them out to be." Seiji ground out.

"I know. Just like spirits aren't as horrid as you make them out to be?" A shadow of a smirk worked its way onto Natsume's face before it disappeared in a slight grimace.

"Why did you string me along?" Seiji interrupted.

A short silence. "It was raining and you were waiting. And waiting. And waiting."

"Pity, then?"

"…You looked lonely."

There was nothing Seiji could say to that but mutter a disgruntled, "They're the same thing." Even he knew his heart wasn't into it.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Even though I didn't know you, I saw you waiting alone in the freezing rain for hours for a cat. You looked exhausted, like you hadn't had a good night's rest in a long time. Like there was no one to stand by your side and support you."

"…Wasn't a cat."

"…I know."

"It was a spirit."

"I figured."

"You were the spirit."

"It's a good thing I dragged you out of the rain, then."

Seiji set his mouth in a straight line. "You're not leaving after this."

Natsume blinked. "Never leaving?"

"You're a spirit. As an exorcist, I can't let you leave."

The spirit looked at him with slightly cold eyes. "I'm surprised you even considered that option. I thought I was dead the moment I was brought here."

"You're powerful. You'll be of use to the clan."

"I'm not—"

"You're … allowed to say your farewell. To your friends. One day. I will accompany you."

"And if—"

"If you refuse to come quietly, you will be held by force, and you won't be granted this opportunity."

Natsume stared at Seiji before closing his eyes. The silence stretched. Finally, the spirit opened his eyes. "I'll take your offer, under one condition."

"What?"

"I work with you and you alone."

"Good." Seiji stood. He wanted nothing else. The conversation was over and he wanted out of the room. "That saves me the trouble of forcing you." He opened the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Just as he was about to close the panel shut, Natsume called after him. "…Matoba?"

He froze.

"Thanks for saving me."

"It was my duty as a friend."

The slide door shut with a click.


	2. Chapter 2 Past to Present

Uwaah ... When I'd uploaded Possibilities I really was only planning for a oneshot. I was _proud_, dagnabbit, of finally managing only a oneshot.

Then I finished watching Season 4 (finally), and the first thing that comes to my fingers is this.

Thank you, kyokichii and harunekonya, for listening to my Natsume ramblings!

And thank you, all you readers, for leaving wonderful reviews for the prequel to this fic.

* * *

><p><strong>Past to Present<strong>

Natsume wandered the streets. The sun was intent on burning everything under its dominion, and the cicadas were intent on deafening anyone who even dared to step under the shade. The heat and the noise barely registered in his mind, though, as he walked aimlessly, umbrella absentmindedly twirling behind him for some meager shade.

While his feet were on autopilot, his mind was instead running in circles, chasing its tail. Children ran past him in their games. Some ran through him. Students walked past in T-shirts and skirts.

He paid none of them any mind.

He was Matoba's familiar. That was the arrangement – his life for his services. However, this also involved bringing him into fights and, to be perfectly honest, that was precisely what he'd been avoiding all his life. Not to mention he was horrible at them.

Natsume understood death. It was impossible not to, at his age. Death was inevitable. Age, infirmity, starvation, accident. All these ravaged the frail human bodies and Natsume could only stand by and watch these pestilences claim the lives of the people he'd known over the ages.

But death could be prevented, especially when it came at the hands of other mortals. Was it wrong to want to prevent death? Something always pricked at Natsume and he'd find himself moving to protect that person before he knew it.

Like how he'd blocked the dark spirit's strike when it tried to take Matoba's life.

Like how he'd rushed to protect the demon that Matoba had almost exorcised. Did exorcise in the end, because he'd failed on both counts – on being Matoba's familiar and on actually protecting Matoba's prey.

Needless to say, that didn't go over well.

* * *

><p>Things had changed so much in half a year…<p>

The spirit known currently as Natsume once had a friend. Spirits came in all shapes and forms, so it wasn't unusual for some to be more human-like in appearance and others to be more beast-like. As such, there was no use being jealous about another fellow demon's appearance, but sometimes Natsume wondered what it would be like to have such a rich white coat, one to keep himself warm in the lonely nights. What it would be like to appear powerful and intimidating, yet graceful as he leapt through the moon-filled sky.

This demon and Natsume did not always get along, particularly when it came to Natsume's opinions about humans. Where Natsume always spied on them and would take to following them around, the other would scoff and call him a fool.

"One day, you're going to get yourself trapped," he'd say. "Humans are selfish creatures, thinking only of themselves and never of the consequences. They have the power to create, and yet the only thing they do with their power is destroy. If you keep running to them like an imbecile, you'll be the one destroyed."

At the time, Natsume had scoffed at the great beast. After all, the latter's fondness for liquor had brought him back again and again to human-filled districts to raid various liquor stores in the middle of the night.

Besides, if anything, Natsume was excellent at escaping sticky situations. He would never let himself be trapped by physical bindings.

Only later did he realize the other was talking of other things. But Natsume never had to worry about his oversight earning an "I told you so," from the spirit.

After all, the day after he'd said those words, Madara had disappeared and Natsume had never seen him again.

* * *

><p>He woke in the bedroom to angry voices. Still sluggish, he kept his eyes closed, but his ears strained despite his lethargy.<p>

"He is nothing more than a nuisance, Matoba. It can't fight, and you are holding yourself back for it. We only agreed that it could stay because you'd said it would be a powerful familiar, but instead, so far, it has only gotten itself nearly killed five times."

"I appreciate your input as always, Nanase. I will take responsibility for this incident and speak to the injured parties myself. However, I will not release Natsume nor have him exorcised. His powers are strongly situational, but they are strong enough – though admitting this shames me – to save my life."

His memory slowly came back in pieces. They had been on an assignment. They, the Matoba clan and – consequently – he, were to either exorcise or capture one of the older, greater demons living by the side of one of the larger mountains.

But the demon had been passive. Natsume saw no need for conflict. The god – because that was what it was; it was no mere demon – had no intention of harming anyone. Natsume could tell that just the mere thought of it horrified him, and so he'd tried to reason with Matoba … who had the bothersome habit of not listening. And since words weren't going to work, Natsume had tried to use his body to get his point across.

The purifying light had glanced his arm and burned him as it shot past him. He didn't remember much after that, but he did remember Matoba's startled expression, both eyes open wide, before black closed in on him.

"One incident out of several only makes a coincidence. You know better than to put trust in whimsical hopes. Because of his interference, several of our men were injured, all to capture a demon of no use to us."

"Of course I know this. That's why my 'hope,' as you put it, is based on fact and observations. The problem with Natsume is not his power. No, it is his attitude."

"If it can't obey your orders, then it is better off gone. If you won't terminate it, then I will."

Natsume shuddered. Despite his efforts to avoid eavesdropping, the words seeped into his ear on their own. They were speaking rather loudly.

"I assure you it will not come to that."

"See to it that it doesn't."

Footsteps, sandals chafing across the wooden floor growing fainter and fainter. Only one pair, though. The other person was still standing outside his door.

Which opened a moment later.

"You'd think she was the head of the family at this rate," sighed Matoba as he entered. When Matoba looked in and saw him awake, his only visible reaction was a slight hitch in his step. "I suppose you heard that."

Natsume silently nodded. He couldn't bring himself to look at Matoba in the eyes.

Truth be told, Matoba as an exorcist scared him. Exorcists killed spirits like him. It wasn't that he was scared for his life, but the light in Matoba's eyes sometimes, in the heat of conflict, spoke of an acclimation to taking lives. And perhaps of a certain glee in doing so.

He heard a sigh, and he saw a sandaled pair of feet enter his vision. "Why must you be so stupid at times?"

Natsume stayed silent.

"If you'd been hit any further to the left, you'd have lost an arm. Any further to the right, your life. So please, explain to me why my constantly wayward familiar decided to put himself in a life-death situation this time."

Nothing.

"As Nanase has so helpfully pointed out, this is your fifth offense. Even the stupidest dog would have learned a trick by now, so why can't you?"

"I am not a dog!" Natsume finally shot out, golden eyes narrowed and pointed straight at Matoba's equally intimidating glare.

"You agreed to be my familiar, so your roles are about equivalent."

"I never agreed—" And here Natsume flinched as he tried to prop himself up from the futon. He'd used his bad arm.

He felt something strange well in him when he saw Matoba jerk as well. Some parts glee, some parts vindication, and some parts something unidentifiable.

Matoba's voice was just as cold as before, his stance straight again. "Whether or not you agreed to the details, you had no choice but to be my familiar. However, your performance has not only been lacking, but completely and utterly inhibiting. Are you trying to die? Or perhaps you are in such despair of being in the company of an exorcist that you are trying to commit suicide? There are easier ways to do that, I assure you."

"You know that's not true!" The injured spirit took a deep breath, as much to ease his pain as to cool his head. Even with Natsume's rather temperate personality, Matoba's words were aimed to incense and they were often particularly effective. "I was just… Matoba, you can't just kill people like that. I know he was attacking you, but you were the ones—"

"'We,' Natsume, because you're one of us now."

"You were the ones who trespassed into his territory first."

"Did you seriously think a demon like that would have left the humans in peace? He would have killed them in time. A single rampage would have been all it took. "

Though his voice stayed even, Natsume's glare only grew colder. "So you're saying that you did that for the people?"

"I side with the humans."

"The humans you hate?"

"Humans are powerless. Demons, on the other hand, are capable of this destruction."

Natsume shook his head. This argument was wrong. But he couldn't express in words what was wrong in a way a … a human would understand. A way that people not blessed with long life could understand.

He'd never had to communicate this before. Other spirits of course already knew, and humans wouldn't have believed him so he'd never tried.

Demons never aggressively acted out of their boundaries. That was a wholly human course of action.

"As you seem to be very well aware of, I am not human."

"You're one of us."

"How many times are you going to say that? I'm a spirit, and even if I were 'one of you,' that doesn't change who I am."

"Natsume, stop being stubborn. You are the older one, by far."

"And you are the more irrational one, by far."

"It was a job. Even if you did spend your life flitting from one lifestyle to the next, even you must understand responsibility."

Natsume's eyes flared and he almost opened his mouth to curse back, but he caught himself in time. Instead, he flopped back into bed and turned away from Matoba.

Conversation ended.

No worries that he might say something he'd regret later.

A few seconds later, Matoba made a scoffing noise. "Perhaps demons mentally age slower than humans?" He slid the door shut behind him on his way out. Some shuffling noises told him guards were placed at his door.

Matoba was caught in a web. The web twisted the truths for him in a way that made illogic logical. It was so human that Natsume was almost intrigued before he caught himself and remembered that they were having an argument.

Natsume sighed. Things weren't always this way, but Natsume knew there was no point in pining over the past.

He needed air. And luckily, he didn't need a door to come and leave.

By the time the doors opened again, the spirit was gone.

* * *

><p>Natsume's first memory was of green and blue. Clear azure skies that spoke of plenty of warming sunlight. Fields of tall green stalks, planted in even intervals like a checkerboard. Muddy water soaked his feet midcalf, and he felt the slimy tingling of a fish brushing past his ankles.<p>

He didn't know how he'd gotten there or where he was or even who he was, but he knew what he was as sure as he knew day from night and humans from spirits.

There, born amongst humans on a warm summer day, he'd given himself his own name.

Perhaps it was because of where he'd come into being, but his shape was naturally that of a human. In fact, standing next to one, he himself found himself indistinguishable from them (by sight only, of course, because spirits had more senses than humans did, and stronger ones at that, and no mere physical appearance could fool them). Perhaps it was because of this that he'd always felt himself attracted to them, like a wayward mockingbird flying home.

At first, it was mere curiosity. Humans were interesting. They were so like spirits – selfish, whimsical, emotional – but they were so different. They were physically weak, but they were strong. It fascinated Natsume that they sought company even when they disliked it. If a spirit disliked someone, he would just fly away and find somewhere else to live, but humans tolerated one another to a degree alien to most demons. There must be something that made it all worth it.

And so he set forth on his journey to discover why.

By mingling with humans.

It was only supposed to be a one time, two time kind of deal, but every time, it was "once more." "Just one more time."

Because he'd come to realize, there really was something that made it all worth it. A feeling rising within him that he wasn't accustomed to. Something rather addicting.

And so he'd slowly aged himself over the years, again and again, meeting new people every time.

Spirits were, in the end, selfish creatures. Natsume would be the first to admit this. He himself wasn't exempt. What they were greedy for, though, wasn't money or such material possessions like property or jewels (for the great majority; Natsume knew some crows who were rather fond of their shiny tinsels).

To each his own. Spirits were all about satisfying themselves. If they were bored, then they'd find entertainment. If they were hungry, then they'd fulfill themselves. If they were lonely, then they'd find a drinking partner. It was a whimsical life, and one that often clashed with a human's way of life.

Some had responsibilities, but even that was about self-satisfaction because gods and spirits alike actually liked using their abilities, and they adored attention. If they did something out of generosity, then it was that generosity that made them feel satisfied.

Natsume was often bored, but he was what most spirits considered "no fun." He didn't much like pranks, nor did he like the taste of fresh sake, no matter how skilled the brewer, and so others ignored him and he'd had to find his own entertainment.

The other demons called Natsume the Human Lover, and they didn't like him much. He always smelled of "those nasty creatures" and he wasn't strong enough to command any respect. The little spirits liked him because he was nice to them (though he didn't feel like he'd ever done anything special for them) but the little guys had never had much clout in the immaterial world anyways.

Natsume didn't much care what others thought. This was his selfishness and his way of life.

* * *

><p>Eventually, his feet brought him into the forest, away from human company. The umbrella of leaves provided little comfort; in fact, Natsume took little notice of the change of scenery until he felt his umbrella snag on a tree trunk. With a frown, Natsume tried to pull it even harder until he realized what was wrong.<p>

He sighed. "The things that idiot does to my mind," he muttered to himself as he managed to free his umbrella. With a quick snap, he shut it and willed it away. He wasn't this absentminded usually.

He continued on his way. He didn't have a particular destination in mind, and so tree after tree passed in and out of his vision.

He lost track of time. The sun was starting to droop and in doing so spilled a liquid red over the sky.

It was then that voices reached his ears.

"Hey, isn't that Natsume?"

"The one who mingles with humans? What's he doing here?"

"Keep away from him. You don't want that stench on you. It never comes off."

"Go away! We don't want you here!"

"Go back to the humans that you love so much!"

Natsume paid them no mind. The ones who bothered to insult him were always more bark and no bite. Regardless, he didn't want to stay in the forest any longer than necessary. He walked quickly, hoping to take a wide turn out of the forest (he was not going to give the demons the satisfaction of thinking that their insults had anything to do with his desire to leave).

They continued jeering, leaping like flailing monkeys with arms waving. Natsume continued to ignore them as he passed more and more of them by. They wore colorful masks that danced and jiggled with each leap, and had thick, heavy fur that looked absolutely painful in the heat.

A stone clattered near his feet.

Irritated, Natsume quickened his pace. It wasn't that they bothered him. It was only a matter of opinion. He'd been living with this long enough to grow accustomed to it. That was all.

"Did you have fun with your humans? We haven't seen you in a while."

"No, we just saw him a little while ago, didn't we?"

"We did? When?"

"Oh right, when our master…"

"Do you think…?"

"He'll know what to do! Call him!"

That didn't change the fact that it was still very annoying. It also only made him strive to spend more time with humans because only they could satisfy the strange gnawing that'd settle in his heart after every encounter with his fellow spirits.

He continued forward, tuning out every word, taunt, and insult flung his way.

And then, just as he was about to take another step forward, he froze in place.

Or, to be more precise, he was frozen in place.

He felt something pressing down on him, like a hand on his shoulders, his head, his back, shoving him into the earth, crushing him. His breath choked and he had to blink his eyes several times to get the spots out of his vision.

He knew what this was. He'd felt this before, but he'd always been a bystander. Never before had its focus been solely on him.

His golden eyes swiveled back and forth – because he couldn't move his head without feeling like he'd snap his spine in two – until he caught sight of a black demon.

The towering giant had an enormous, dreadful grin that stretched unnaturally across its face. Natsume found himself focusing on its many brilliantly white teeth that stood in sharp contrast to its dark body.

The rows of molars opened.

"I heard the commotion and came. One of the demons have informed me that the traitor Natsume has come. Are you Natsume?"

Natsume didn't answer. He couldn't move his head to nod, and he couldn't move his tongue to speak.

Plus, he felt that if he answered in the affirmative…

"Are you the Natsume who is the familiar of that exorcist?"

…then he was as good as dead.

* * *

><p>Things hadn't always been like this.<p>

Natsume hated farewells, but they were inevitable. Unlike his more jaded acquaintances, though, Natsume had never given up making new connections with other souls. Humans were doomed to die before him because he was a spirit and lived much longer than them. It was a fact of life. Yet Natsume believed that fear of losing something should never prevent one from striving for it.

As Natsume Takashi (his first names were more or less randomly chosen every incarnation), his life had been satisfying. He'd had friends who were fun and loyal, even if Nishimura was a bit too energetic and Kitamoto a bit too glued to Nishimura's side. He enjoyed spending the afterschool afternoons with them, wasting it away by a lake with a fishing pole by his side, or perhaps speeding down the hills on a borrowed bicycle.

School, overall, was a strange experience. "You'll never get anywhere in life," the teachers would say when he'd run off, but really, what did grades matter to a spirit? He only did well enough to pass, so the teachers wouldn't pay undue attention to him, and whenever parents day rolled around, he'd usually make up some sob story about how his foster parents were away and he was staying with an aunt who didn't really care enough to come.

Really, if it weren't for the fact that it was the best place to foster relationships, then he wouldn't have bothered with the trouble.

This time, however, an old couple had happened on him just as he was about to walk into the woods. He'd kept his human form up for longer than usual, and had paid for his carelessness … or so he'd thought. When they'd taken him in and fed him and asked him about his parents, and when they were downright horrified to hear about his "aunt" and offered him a roof free of charge, something shifted in Natsume. "Ah," he remembered thinking, "is this … what it means to be part of a family?"

Another piece to the puzzle.

So he found himself taken in by the Fujiwaras. They were old, and would certainly pass before Natsume learned enough about this "family" setup (how had he missed it all this time?), but a younger couple would have only caused trouble. Conveniences aside, the Fujiwaras also showered him with such warmth that he found himself hard-put to deny them anything. Despite his status as a permanent leech to his house, they seemed happy to just have him there, and so he stayed.

Then, one day, he'd met a boy standing in the rain.

Being friends with Matoba was fun. He was such an introverted hermit that sometimes, Natsume felt like he knew more about dealing with humans than his friend did, and that just amused him to no end.

At first, he played along with Matoba's excuse as his own excuse for meeting the boy. He would look for cats; it was fun and a good way to pass the time, although the Fujiwaras always made a fuss when he returned home covered in dirt and scratches. For some reason, the only ones he could find were fat round ones who looked more like pigs than actual cats, and for some reason, the fat ones were still really, really fast.

Eight long years became short. Sometimes, Matoba would show up injured, and Natsume felt a strange sadness. The boy was dealing with spirits again – his spiritual powers were too strong for that not to be the case – and Natsume, in a fit of hypocrisy, really wished he wouldn't. Most spirits weren't as nice as him.

But then "that incident" happened, and Matoba learned that Natsume wasn't really human.

Farewells had never been so hard, but ages of lying meant that Natsume had a perfect mask. His parents wanted him to live with them, and so he had to move. "I'm sorry, I really would love to stay, but my parents are going overseas. I'm sorry."

Life with Matoba was … strange. They were sometimes friends, sometimes master and servant, and sometimes almost like enemies. Matoba would treat him as a human companion, order him like a familiar, and always, always maintain a strange distance and, when asked, he pretended otherwise. It was frankly very frustrating.

Plus, Matoba had only grown more stubborn as he'd grown older, and yet, despite his apparent uselessness, he still kept Natsume by his side. Matoba still insisted he make himself useful on his missions. Natsume felt like he was being pulled off in two opposite directions at the same time.

Natsume was amazed at himself for never once having thought of leaving, though. A different life, in its own way, but not one worth leaving behind. There was still his relationship with Matoba.

Endurance was one of the traits Natsume admired most about humans, and he wanted to try his own hand at it, for once.

* * *

><p>Natsume ran.<p>

He ran as quickly as his legs could take him.

He weaved between the trees, hoping to lose some of his pursuers, but he knew there was nothing he could do about the greatest danger. Demons who could fly were always the hardest to escape from.

Spirits had much more endurance than humans, but even he was starting to tire.

He didn't want to fight them. He never wanted to fight.

But when he could feel the wind rush past him every time the menacing demon flew over him and reached down, trying to grasp him and crush him, he felt his heart jump to his throat as he leapt for his life.

"Are you afraid of denying it, Natsume?" The deep rumbling voice thrummed through him as his feet pounded against the ground. "Your master has cost us many of our kind. It is only right that you pay with your life."

A hand suddenly gripped his collar and whipped him back. Natsume sailed backwards as he felt more fingers grip his arms and shoulders. He couldn't budge as spirits weighed down on him.

"Let go!"

"This is for our master!"

"Revenge for our master!"

"I said, let me go!"

"Because of you, our mountain's going to wither and die!"

Natsume shoved an elbow in one of the spirit's face. He staggered backwards, releasing his hold. This was enough for Natsume to free his hand a ram his fist into another spirit's.

"I don't want to fight! Just let me leave!"

"Why should we, when our master pleaded for the same thing?"

Natsume grit his teeth. They spoke the truth.

His hesitance cost him, though, as he was shoved to the ground, face first. He didn't have time to spit out the dirt that ground against his teeth as more demons piled upon him.

A shadow fell over him. An enormous hand reached down for him.

The smaller spirits scattered, flying to the wind as fingers wrapped around his body, lifting him up and off the ground. Uncomfortable at the unfamiliar feeling of flying up into the air, he dug his nails into the dark skin. Cries of "Kill him!" and "Crush him!" reached his ears.

Before long, he was brought face-to-face with the beast. Natsume tried to put on his best game face, determined not to show any weakness, but the hand was starting to grip very tightly. He couldn't stop the small hitch in his breath as the beast gave an experimental squeeze.

He felt like the caterpillar the schoolchildren played with, caught between their fingers and squeezed and prodded until they grew bored and stomped on it.

"How does it feel to be powerless within another's grasp? I've heard that humans rather enjoy this feeling. I truly don't understand their hearts."

"What … are you talking about?"

"I do not feel joy with you here, squirming in my hand. Instead, I feel revulsion and resignation. That I would have to stain my hand with the blood of one so tainted by humans. For that I feel disgust. But one must do what one must, and you are a danger to all our kind."

"I'm not a danger to anyone!" But he was. Even he understood he was. Being Matoba's familiar was not just a pretty title for the humans. It branded him as a spirit that betrayed his own kind.

"No, but your master is, and where you are, your master follows."

Despite his situation, Natsume gave a dry chuckle. "Don't you mean the other way around?"

"If the rumors are to be believed, then perhaps not."

The giant demon drifted off into silence, but before Natsume could speak up again, try to delay the inevitable, the other's enormous jaw moved.

"Under different circumstances, our relationship could have been different. I can only resign myself of that possibility. The circumstances were not in your favor, Human Lover."

The demon's head came closer and closer, and Natsume renewed his struggles. "Please! Let go! I'm sure I can convince them otherwise! Just please, don't—!"

Spirits, humans, neither were his ally. After his farewells, there was only one person left…

And here, Natsume wasn't clear about what happened.

Everything happened too quickly.

An arrow. An explosion.

A cry of pain.

Him dropping to the ground with a loud thump.

The _pitter-patter_ of geta against the leafy floor growing fainter and fainter.

"That's my servant you have right there. Would you be so kind as to return him to me?"

A familiar deep voice that he hadn't expected to hear again so soon.

"M-Matoba?"

His eyes cracked open, and indeed, there, standing before him, was the dark-haired exorcist. His eyes were focused up towards the sky, but at Natsume's voice, they flickered down towards him for a second.

"And here I'd thought you'd run further. But with your personality, I suppose it's not surprising you returned to the scene of the crime."

"Huh?"

"Oh? You didn't notice? This was where you were almost killed just yesterday."

Ah. No wonder why the spirits here were so restless. Their god was gone…

"Matoba, we have to return their god to them! Their mountain needs him!"

At this, Matoba turned his face to Natsume and, after a moment's staring, broke into laughter.

"Of all the things, that?" The laughter diminished into chuckles. "I think we should worry about our lives first." He notched an arrow and aimed it upwards.

Natsume looked up, too. The giant demon was cradling his hand, his curiously blank eyes screwed in pain. Natsume could almost feel the growling vibrate the earth. He swerved his head around. "Wh-where's everyone else? Nanase? Your other servants?"

Another chuckle. "Well, wouldn't you know it. I do believe I've left them behind."

"Th-that's completely irresponsible of you!"

"Then that just means you'll have to do a proper job protecting me."

And with that, he fired.

Natsume shielded his eyes from the brilliant light that enveloped the arrow. It tore through the sky like a knife and pierced into the giant demon's shoulder. The demon let out a roar that chained Natsume to the ground, and when he charged, he could only stand and watch.

But then he realized that the demon wasn't aiming for him.

Its giant mass was flying straight towards Matoba.

With a cry, Natsume pushed off the ground and flung himself onto the exorcist. He screwed his eyes shut and gripped tight on the other's arms. All small _oomph_ and he knew he'd hit the ground.

A cry of "You fool!" reached his ears, and then suddenly, like a weight being lifted from his shoulders, the pressure was gone.

He stayed in that position for a while longer, trying to catch his breath, his face buried into a soft kimono instead of the dirt.

The angry squeals of the lesser spirits reached his ears before they too vanished, the rustling of trees signaling their departure.

When he opened his eyes, he was on the ground, Matoba underneath him with an irritating grin on his face. "Are you quite done yet?"

Startled and annoyed at the other's expression, Natsume shoved himself off the other's body and sat back. "What are you doing here? Here to make fun of me again? I have no intention of going back just to be your servant and wait at your feet for your next order just so you can watch me fail again!"

"Mm? Was that what I was doing?" Matoba sat up as well. "Well, there's no worry about that. You've proven yourself quite well just now."

Natsume could only answer with a tilt of his head. "What are you talking about?"

"What, you didn't notice? You were the one who drove the spirit off just now, and every other spirit within a few hundred meter's-radius."

He did? He didn't feel anything different…

"I see … It looks like it can only be activated when…" At this, Matoba shook his head as though trying to shake a thought out of his mind. "More importantly, are you injured?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, are you hurt?"

"I know what being injured means, thank you very much! And no, nothing big. Nothing that can't be healed within a day."

A small humming noise. "Then we can just head back. You'll recover quicker at the complex."

Natsume narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going back yet. Why do you think I left in the first place?"

"Because you're a stubborn idiot."

"That was a rhetorical question."

"I've made arrangements with Nanase. We'll discuss them when we return. Your powers seem to be far more suited for defense in the first place."

"That still doesn't mean you'll stop killing indiscriminately. The god here didn't deserve to be sealed. It was protecting the mountain peacefully, and you barged in on its peace."

"If you'd like to prioritize your bleeding heart over your safety, then by all means. His seal is in the Paulownia Room."

Natsume looked up at Matoba in surprise.

"Your responsibility. A gamble, with your life at stake. Should your faith in your demon friend be ill-placed, there's hardly anything I can say that would halt Nanase, so don't choose wrong."

"Matoba…" For Matoba to be backing down, something big must have changed his mind. Was it Nanase? Or was it something else…?

"Come. Let's go back. I'm completely famished, and you're probably hungry too, considering you've been having a regular meal schedule for numerous years now."

"…Matoba, you're acting strange." 'You're acting considerate, like before we were exorcist-spirit. Like when we were friend-friend,' was what he meant to say, but even he knew that Matoba wouldn't have understood what he was saying.

"You're imagining things. I'm as calm as I ever was."

And it appeared that Natsume was just as fluent at Matoba-speak ("I'm not calm at all") as before. "…I'm sorry."

At this, the exorcist raised an eyebrow. "And just what are you apologizing for? For running away? Don't, you'll only do it again. For being an impertinent brat and challenging my authority? I can make exceptions every so often for faithful servants. For dirtying and ripping my clothes? Well, you'll just have to learn how to sew then."

"…I've thought this every now and then, but your personality has only deteriorated with age."

"Thank you for your compliment."

Natsume huffed and stood. He offered Matoba his hand, and the other took it.

Matoba, accepting help? "Are you OK?" Natsume asked.

"…I'm all right now," was his friend's muttered response.

And that was the end of the conversation.

But then, that was how they usually were. The quiet was peaceful, not charged with unspoken words. It hadn't been so since he'd entered Matoba's service. Natsume wasn't very sure what had changed, but it seemed like things would be all right for now.

After all, life was about change and enduring the change. That was how relationships were fostered, right?


End file.
